Ghostmaker (40 page)

“We are lost, then,” Muon Nol said. “Without the farseer, we can no longer conjure the pacts with the warp and close the Web. Dolthe will die as surely as Farseer Eon Kull.”

“Lilith can do it,” Gaunt said suddenly.

Muon Nol and Lilith looked at him.

“I know you can, and I know you want to. That is why you’re here, Lilith.”

“What are you talking about, Ibram?” she said.

“You’re not the only one with pull, the only one who can chase records and dig out hushed files. I did my research on you as surely you did mine. Lilith Abfequarn… psyker, inquisitor, black notation rating.”

“God of Terra,” she smiled. “You’re good, Ibram.”

“You don’t know how good. The Black Ships singled you out when they found you. Daughter of a planetary governess whose world edged the stamping grounds of the eldar. She died in one of their raids. You swore… first to destroy them and then, as you grew, to understand the strange species that had robbed you so. And that’s why you wanted this mission: you craved a chance to contact your nemesis. You want this, Lilith.”

She sank and sat hard on the onyx floor beside Eon Kull’s corpse.

Muon Nol lifted her up. “You are Lileath. You can do what the farseer would have done. Close the gate, Lileath. Take us back to Dolthe forever.”

Lilith looked at Gaunt. Gaunt noticed for the last time how beautiful she was. “Do it… That is why you came.”

She took his shoulders, hugged him briefly and then pulled away to look into his face.

“It would have been interesting, commissar.”

“Fascinating, inquisitor. Now do your job.”

They said goodbye. Mkoll said goodbye to Liloni, Caffran said goodbye to Laria. The Ghosts said goodbye to Tanith and the Blueblood bade farewell to Ignix Majeure.

A cold light, hard as vacuum, bright as diamond, pierced the sky above the ruin, evaporating the storm in little more than a minute. Seventy-five percent of the astropaths aboard the Imperial fleet elements in orbit suffered catastrophic seizures and died. The others passed out. The psychic backwash of the event was felt light years away.

The spell ended as the Way finally closed. The eldar left Monthax forever, and took Lilith back to Dolthe craftworld with them. She closed the Way, as she had, perhaps, been born to do. Once the Way was shut, closely-targeted orbital bombardments incinerated the massed forces of the enemy.

The jungles of Monthax burned.

Once the bombardment stopped, Gaunt led his Ghosts and the Volpone unit back towards the line. The storm was dead and pale sunlight fell on them. The world around them was a wasted desert of baked mud and burned vegetation.

The only man Gaunt had lost in the final assault had been Lerod, taken by a remarkably lucky glancing shot off the roof of the eldar temple.

Ibram Gaunt slept for a day and half in his command cabin. His fatigue was total. He woke when Raglon brought him directives from Lord Militant General Bulledin, orchestrating the Imperial withdrawal from Monthax.

He put on his full dress uniform, adjusted his cap and went out into the smoky sunlight to oversee the Tanith as they packed up and prepared for evacuation. The vast troop transports cast flickering shadows across the lines as they came in, droning down from high orbit.

Gaunt could sense the feeling of the men: weariness, aches, the joy of a great victory somehow dulled and strange.

He found Milo, sat alone on the side steps of the abandoned infirmary, cleaning his lasgun. Gaunt sat down next to him.

“Odd the way things work out, isn’t it?” Milo said bluntly.

Gaunt nodded.

“I think it was a good thing, though.”

“What?”

“The eldar trick. Good for us. Good for the Ghosts.”

“Explain?” Gaunt asked.

“I know how I feel. I’ve heard the men talking too. This was Tanith again for us, for you too, I think. Deep down I think we all hate the fact we never got a chance to fight for Tanith. Some are blatant about it. Men like… like Major Rawne. Others can understand why we had to leave, why you ordered us out. But they don’t like it.”

He looked around at Gaunt.

“Just a mind trick maybe, but for a few hours there forty or so of us got to fight for Tanith, got to fight for our world, got the chance to do what we’d always been cheated out of. It felt good. Even now I know it was a lie, it still feels good. It… exorcised a few ghosts.”

Gaunt smiled. The boy’s pun was awful, but he was right. The Ghosts of Tanith had laid their own ghosts to rest here. They would be stronger for it.

And so would he, he realised. They were
his
ghosts after all.

Gaunt’s Ghosts.

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